Bound In Sorrow
by STRAYDOG92
Summary: Loki was taken back to Asgard after his fight with the avengers bound in chains and seething in madness. He hoped for death but instead was sentenced to an eternity of unspeakable torture by the Asgardians that he had wronged. Not all believed his punishment should be so harsh, including Thor. He finds someone who can hide his brother and hopefully heal his ravaged heart. LokixOC
1. Prologue

Thank you for taking time to read this story. I hope you enjoy it, and I welcome reviews and criticisms. This first chapter is SHORT. I am aware of this and it is simply because it is the prologue. The story truly starts in the next chapter. Also, this is LokixOC. It may turn into LokixOCxThor but I'm not sure yet. That depends on where this goes and if people enjoy reading it. Please give it a chance. I do not own anything that Marvel does. The only things I own are the idea for Bound In Sorrow and Prosper Callahan. I obviously don't own Thor or the Avengers, thank you very much.

The metal gag bit into his jaw as the god of lies stood on that concrete platform in the middle of New York City. His eyes burned hatred at the ground as he quietly seethed in his defeat. More than that, Loki Laufeyson was frightened. He would hide it, but even gods felt fear. This god in particular feared what would become of him when his brother-no. Not his brother. Thor Odinsson was not the brother of Loki Laufeyson. When that man took him back to Asgard for sentencing and punishment. At best, Loki would be executed on the spot for his transgressions. At worst he would spend years in a cell being tortured over the next few centuries.

Loki longed for a quick death. After all, what else could the villain hope for? He had failed, utterly and absolutely. He had nothing else to live for at this point. He did not long for death itself, but rather he saw it as the best option out of the ones laid out before him. The frost giant flexed his hands in the metal cuffs and glared harder at the ground as Thor came toward him. He could feel those burning blue eyes on his head and knew that the demigod must long to be the one to torture him. He knew Thor would take pleasure in hitting him; beating him senseless. He knew this because he knew that he himself would take joy in it.

"It is time, brother," Thor said in an almost gentle voice. Loki didn't look up. He was not the brother of the blonde thunder god. He never had been, and it was a mockery that Thor would call him such. Loki would have loved to deliver some sneered remark to him, but the metal over his mouth prevented it. More than that, it prevented Loki the freedom to simply open his mouth to draw in breath. His jaw was locked in place, as if to bind that silver tongue he was so famous for.

Thor watched Loki for another few seconds before on some unbidden signal the two of them disappeared from that park in the middle of New York. Neither of the gods flinched, while one stared at his feet the other closed his eyes at the jolting sensation.

Moments later the two of them stood on the bridge to Asgard. It seemed to mock Loki, as the bridge was the very bifrost that he had destroyed. It still was in a state of destruction, and the once colorful ice-like structure gleamed clear and dead. It was another failure of the frost giant. This one was truly an accident, however. Loki had simply wished to destroy the frost giants for his father; for Asgard. Nothing ever seemed to work out for Loki, it seemed. Now he simply wished for death but he feared that even that would be withheld from him. Why would his once-brethren grant him a swift death, after all? It was kindness that Loki knew would not be shown to one such as he.

"Brother?" Thor prodded, touching Loki's arm. Even now the great oaf wondered after his wellbeing. It made Loki's stomach roil. Why was he being kind? Was it just to mock him? Possibly Thor knew what was to come and was just trying to make Loki believe some kindness would be extended to him. The frost giant knew better. He would not be deceived by this 'kindness' from his brother. He would not break, he promised himself. It did not matter how many times they beat him or how much he bled. Loki Laufeyson was a god in his own right and he would not show any form of fear. No, he would prove once and for all to these Asgardians that he was superior to them in every way. No kind words or harsh whippings would ever break his exterior.


	2. Chapter 1

So here we are. Technically chapter two, but it's really chapter one in the actual story. Thank you for giving my story a chance, and I hope you like it. Once again, I only own Prosper and the idea of this story. And once again I do not own Thor, Loki, or Iron Man. Reviews and criticism are greatly appreciated.

Something was ringing. In my dream it was the devil tapping his watch and smirking at me, his goatee smoking from the heat of hell. He was telling me that it was time. I had run out of time and luck after these twenty-two years of life.

Then I realized that it was my alarm clock. My eyes snapped open and I smacked the alarm clock on the side of my bed. I hated this client that insisted I work for her at eight in the morning. Sometimes I wished I had a real job- a nine to five job that provided insurance and air conditioning. Deep down I knew that couldn't happen, but a girl could wish, right? Yes. Definitely. I could keep wishing for things I couldn't have.

"Okay, okay," I groaned, smacking at the alarm again. Still it rang incessantly and I half wished that it really had been the devil tapping his watch and telling me it was time for my descent into the fiery depths. Okay, that was being a bit dramatic. I forced myself into a sitting position and my head turned slowly until I could glare at the alarm clock. It was getting louder. The day I'd gotten the alarm clock I'd thought it was a great idea for something to get louder if I didn't wake up. Now I wanted to go back in time and shank myself for ever considering buying it. Finally I managed to flip the switch on the alarm clock that turned the sound off. It was seven thirty-two. At least the client only lived about ten minutes away.

With a groan I pushed the covers back and got to my feet, stretching and pulling my long dark hair out of its low ponytail. I slipped the elastic over my wrist, knowing that I'd need it in a few minutes after I brushed my hair again. Slowly I forced myself into the bathroom that was down the short hall from my room. Then again, my whole apartment was small. It was a good thing I never had guests, since even with just me the place felt full. "Hello Prosper," I sighed, looking in the mirror at my olive complexion. For a moment I considered slapping or pinching my face in order to gain something resembling color in my cheeks. Then I remembered that I didn't give a crap. I yawned and fumbled around on the sink for my brush, just as the alarm started screaming again. I cursed and my hand jerked, tapping the mirror lightly. Well, I thought it was lightly. The entire thing shattered and rained glass down on the sink. "Oh come on!" I whined, glaring at the glass shards. The screaming alarm seemed to be laughing at me in the background.

I stomped back to my room and turned the alarm off, this time unplugging it for good measure. Sometimes I forgot which switch turned it to snooze, and this time was no exception to the rule. As I made my way back to the bathroom I looked at my hand with a small frown on my face. My powers hadn't gone out of control like that in awhile. Maybe I was tense or nervous. Sometimes when I felt at odds with everything I would break the occasional glass or send something flying with a bit more force than I intended. Did I have super strength? I wished. That would be convenient for cleaning under the sofa. No, sometimes I could simply add a bit of telekinetic force to my blows or in this case the act of brushing my hair. Lucky me, right?

Finally I finished brushing my teeth without a mirror and got all of the broken glass into the trash can. I didn't have time to get a new mirror at the moment, so I left the can in the bathroom and proceeded to go to my room to get dressed. I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail after changing into a t shirt and shorts. At least my clients didn't care how I dressed. With a quick look to the clock in the kitchenette I grabbed my shoes and hopped around the apartment pulling them on. I had to leave.

Quickly I grabbed my small backpack from the table that contained my wallet and shoved my phone into it. Next I grabbed my keys from the table as well and walked out the door, locking it behind me. I liked living on the first floor, as stairs weren't a problem for when I was exhausted.

The sun was shining for the third day in a row on this happy October morning. Well, happy unless you'd destroyed your own bathroom mirror and were up three hours too early. I sighed and made my way down the street, digging in my backpack and jamming my sunglasses onto my face. It was slightly chilly this morning, almost making me wish I'd worn a pair of sweatpants. Almost. I liked the cold as I found it helped me stay focused.

I walked on the sidewalk mentally keeping track of where I was as I listened to the white noise around me. Sometimes I liked to people watch, but today I was too tired and wondering where I would get a new mirror. I was very attached to my bathroom mirror; especially when I wanted to see if my hair looked like a cockatoo's head feathers. I needed a new mirror.

My feet stopped and I looked up when I was at the front of a very nice apartment complex. This was where my first client of the day was. I slid my sunglasses up onto my hair and walked into the apartment lobby, where I saw a man holding two large German Shepherds.

"Hello Thomas," I greeted, smiling lightly. "I see you have the boys this morning."

Thomas was the doorman and my client usually gave him the two big dogs. He was always less than thrilled, as he apparently didn't like canines. "Yes," he said simply, frowning slightly as he tried to hold the dogs back from me. They had seen me and they knew that I meant it was time for a walk. "I don't know how you handle them everyday, Miss Callahan," Thomas continued, finally letting go of the leashes once I had them in my hand.

"They're such sweet boys, aren't you both?" I laughed, scratching both of the dogs' ears. They were wild, but that didn't bother me. Roscoe and Desoto were good dogs and I loved spending time with them. More than that, I got paid for walking them down the streets and through the park.

"Sweet seems to denote wild and crazy in this case," Thomas muttered, wiping his hands on a handkerchief as if the dogs had germs or something. I just shrugged and turned, opening the door for the dogs. The two large animals nearly pulled me through the door, but I was ready for it. Instead of fighting against them I used their momentum to get them walking the right way down the street.

"Did you boys try to lick Thomas again?" I asked, keeping them to one side of the sidewalk. Roscoe wagged his tail and glanced at me before bounding forward to stay even with his brother. I took that as a yes and took the next turn that led me to the entrance to the park.

The dogs walked me for a good hour before I sat down in the grass and played with them and a rope toy that I had in my backpack. The dogs would never run off and were supremely loyal. If any strange man walked too close they bared their fangs and acted aggressive. I knew the dogs would hurt any stranger that came too close, so I kept them in check at all times.

During one of our rounds of tug of war I heard something like a whine in my backpack. Moments later I realized it was my phone, so I stopped playing with the dogs and dug in my phone to answer it.

"Hello?" I greeted, not even looking to see who was calling. I had an idea that it was the owner of the two dogs I was walking. Possibly she wanted me to keep them longer or overnight. That happened sometimes, as she was constantly on dates or on trips out of town. She barely had time for the boys, but that was why I existed. I walked them everyday and made sure the dogs had time to play and be dogs outside of her apartment.

"Hello, Prosper Callahan, yes?" an unfamiliar male voice asked from the other end. I didn't recognize the voice, and when I looked at the phone screen I saw I didn't recognize the number.

"Who is this?" I asked, pushing Desoto back when he tried to bathe my face with his tongue.

"Anthony Stark. I trust you remember me," came the brusque reply. In that moment my heart plummeted and I jumped to my feet, looking around to make sure no one was giving me a suspicious look. Even more, I prayed he wasn't anywhere near me. Of course I remembered Anthony Stark. He had helped me out a few years ago, but we were not friends by any stretch of the imagination. I wanted to avoid him like the plague if given the chance.

"What do you want?" I asked, not sounding at all polite. I wrapped the leashes tighter around my hand and my blue eyes darted around nervously again. "I thought we were done. I told you, I don't want any part of-"

"-I'm not calling you to recruit you for anything," the genius scoffed, cutting me off mid-sentence. "I'm calling because I need a favor. Where are you? Why aren't you at your apartment?"

For a moment I considered running to the nearest airport and getting a ticket to Africa. Then I remembered that I couldn't afford that kind of thing. "I'm working," I answered slowly. "So why don't you tell me exactly what you want?"

I heard a loud and irritated sigh and a murmured conversation. "I can't tell you exactly what I want, Miss Callahan," he hissed quietly. "But I need you to trust me. I helped you two years ago, now I need you to help me. Can you come back to your apartment? _Now?"_

"How do you know where I-never mind," I shook my head, knowing I would never get an answer to that question. Of course he knew where I lived. "Yeah," I finally sighed. "Give me about twenty minutes. I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?" I ran my fingers through my ponytail as the two dogs stared up at me with happy faces. They had no idea that my life was on the brink of going to hell.

"Make it ten," Stark snapped, a moment before the phone went dead. I waste no time in shoving it into my pocket and walking back through the park with the two dogs. At least it was almost time for them to go back anyway, so I could just drop the dogs with Thomas and get home. Unfortunately, the walk gave me time to think about the possible ramifications of Anthony Stark needing something from me.

Two years back Victor Von Doom had been chasing me because of my abilities. He wanted my powers for himself and therefore thought that he could control me. I was of a different mind, but there was no way I could fight him. My powers were wild and out of control because of my fear, and S.H.I.E.L.D. was offering me assistance only if I agreed to join with them. I didn't want to be a part of any kind of crime fighting organization. Just a few months before I had seen the fight for the earth that the Avengers had gone through. That wasn't me. I wasn't cut out for fighting or saving the human race from aliens. Hell, I was still of a mind that aliens and whatnot didn't exist. I wanted to stick to that belief forever.

Unfortunately, I hadn't been able to run forever. Von Doom had caught me and hurt me pretty badly. Luckily Iron Man had found me. He saved me from Von Doom and promised to look the other way as I ran. That was the other part of my power-to run. Or more accurately, to hide. I could hide myself from anyone that was looking for me, and it didn't matter how they were looking or where they were looking. The only way they could find me was if I either dropped my guards or admitted who I was to the person face to face. Even then, they only knew who I was while they were looking. Some people thought it was a unique power that I should have been using for the betterment of the human race.

I just wanted to be left alone.

Finally I got back to the apartment building and handed the boys off to Thomas. He didn't question why I was back early, and I power walked back to my apartment. The usual ten minute walk only took six minutes and my stomach plummeted when I saw a tell tale fancy black car outside of the small apartment complex. I went to my door and noticed it was open a bit. Oh shit. Someone was in my apartment. I took a deep breath and pushed the door all the way open to see three people in my apartment.

Anthony Stark was the first one I noticed. He was on a cell phone and talking quickly. Beside my couch stood a tall, broad man who I recognized as Thor. I'd seen him on television a few times and he was hard to mistake. In his arms was a pale, lean figure that at first I didn't recognize. Finally I did.

"Why is Loki the Conqueror in my living room?" I demanded, slamming the door behind me and giving the two men an incredulous stare.


End file.
